Soft were the pawfalls on this warm, spring night. The twilight hours had passed some time ago, and now Father Time found Artemis at mid-rise and not quite full. Perhaps another meal would do it, but in reality, all She needed was time. Besides, She wasn't in the business of digesting stars. The silvery Lady thought the little lights quite beautiful, if not comforting since She would otherwise be alone. Her nightly journey was slow, as was Her custom--why rush things, after all? She was calm and content, and then She cast her gaze upon Artemis.

This description of the heavenly body could be accurately applied to Her wolven counterpart as she started back up at the moon. Temi's late-night walk had taken her clear around the Siver Creek territory with her blue-gray eyes trained on the sky. It was nights like these that the dreamer was glad for gravity, otherwise she might just leap into the heavens and sleep among the stars--like in one of her stories. She wondered how many stories were in the stars--how many that hadn't happened yet. What was in the stars for her?

The young gray's slow, aimless gait carried her gently until a the scent of a packmate tickled her nose--a new packmate, she corrected, as her gaze fell on the former Novian. It seemed that the part-wolf had as much of a fascination with the sky as herself, but that didn't surprise her, considering his previous position in his old pack. But what about here? What place had he made for him since his arrival in Silver Creek? Temi didn't mind his pack change for she rather liked the two-tone male. "Ah, Prince Starchaser, Your Highness," the Lorekeeper said quietly as always, stepping forward in the silver darkness. "How many stars have you chased tonight?"

Artemis chuckled merrily at her packmate's first joke. With a name like his, it was no leap of logic to know that two and a half stars couldn't possibly satiate a Starchaser's appetite, and wondered briefly if there were any stars in particular he liked chasing. In the gracious bow and noble manner of the male, the gray-toned femme had no trouble imagining him as a prince in his homeland, if not now--even if he was only part-wolf. With a slight head tilt, she thought that there was probably a riveting story surrounding him and his chivalrous ways. Perhaps that was for another night under another star.

Again, a little laugh escaped her maw at the suggestion that it was the Kappa was the cause of the moon's rising. For a half second, she wondered if his second use of the word "moon" indicated the celestial body or her wolven self. "I agree with you there--beautiful night for a moon--but I doubt its rising had anything to do with me," she said in an amused tone. She was a little surprised at the two-tone Lambda's straight face, as if he actually believed what he said. Such things were only true in love stories and fairy tales--not that the Lorekeeper minded. She could conjure up a walking moon or star-crossed lovers anytime with that overactive imagination of hers.

At that particular moment, light streaked across the night sky in the form of a falling star. There were several types of falling, Temi observed. There was the physical fall--like the ones both she and Starchaser had taken when they'd first met--the lover's fall, the fall that followed the rise, the falling stars, and even the fall that signaled the ensuing winter. What sort of fall the star signified, she wasn't sure, if it stood for anything at all. "What do you think?" the young gray asked, nearly forgetting to continue after a pause. Starchaser couldn't have been aware of her thoughts, after all. "You were the Skywatcher back at Nova Mountain, weren't you, Star-boy? Do you think the stars ever try to tell us things?"

There was a pause before the part-wolf answered, and the moon-kissed female wondered just what he was thinking. Star-boy--she chuckled inwardly at the invented nickname--seemed to have as much imagination as the Lorekeeper, of which she was pleased. A rare find indeed. To some, he must have seemed a little "out there", but then, so was she with her fabrication of tales. Dreamers were a special breed, and sometimes one lived her whole life without meeting another.

The two-tone male mentioned his forgetting of his old Nova Mountain position, even thought it was so integral to his personality. Strange indeed at how easily important things could be lost from memory. In fact, it was one of Temi's deepest fears--being forgotten. Her mission in life and occupation in the Creek was to remember and chronicle important individuals and events so that their lessons and legacies would not be lost. But who would be there to tell the story of the storyteller when she too made her last journey to the sky?

There was a hopeful sparkle in her blue-gray eyes as they reflected the starlight. Perhaps it was there that her tale was being recorded. Maybe someday there would be another Starchaser to gaze upon them until they whispered the young gray's story like one beside her said. Fate, her most trusted guide, was a Lorekeeper in Artemis' eyes--writing the world's story in her great Book. These small points of light were the words, regaling us all with everything we'd ever need to know, but might never understand.

"Even the moon requires the company of stars," the Kappa replied enigmatically. "Perhaps I have heard them speak, but never knew it. They have never failed to direct my paws to where they should be--to home, to love. I'm sure you've had that experience," she grinned and glanced at her companion. There had to be something in the Creek that he was destined for. As for her, Temi owed those Fate-words or stars or whatever you wanted to call them her life as well. She and Apollo may have never come across the Salvaje Valley, and with his departure, she may have been lonely forever without their guidance to the golden now-Alpha. "I'm sure our destinies are written up there," she continued calmly, dreamily. "What do you think the stars are holding for you?"

He was right, she supposed. If destinies were meant to be kept secret, why exhibit them so plainly before all? It was a valid point. There were many who were destined for normal, ordinary lives with a few extraordinary moments. Some would have their tales colored in agony and heartbreak, and a few wouldn't work out to have the happy ending everyone wished for. Still fewer were placed into a life that inspired nobility and adventure--those lived on in legend. Yet if one could see his destiny, might he not choose another?

The moonlit femme contemplated this. We should not know our full destiny, she concluded, but a few little glimpses couldn't hurt. Besides, she thought as the stars drew her gaze again, it was the small hints that increased the suspense, and everyone loved surprises. She was sure the stars were very good at keeping secrets when they wanted to--they'd had a lot of practice. But like her companion said, sometimes they whispered--the sun chases the moon, GoldenShadow and Artemis--if only we'd listen.

The mutt spoke again, this time in a far-off tone that suggested his mind was elsewhere. A time of confusion. Small heroes to save us. His words were vague and cryptic, like those of prophesy and riddles in old stories. Temi wondered what they could mean and when they'd come to pass--if they meant anything at all. The soothsayer himself probably had little idea. Either way, she committed them to memory, just in case. Wouldn't it be something if Starchaser prophesized correctly?

Of course, neither of them knew just how close to home those words would hit.

And it'll rain tomorrow, he said, snapping her out of her fantasy. The Lorekeeper knew of wolves who could sense the weather, and wished she had such a sense. It's come in pretty handy. "Did you read that up there or can you feel the rain coming?" she asked, genuinely curious. He had been a Skywatcher, after all. Maybe an errant cloud had tipped him off. The most she could sense was the scent of the air ladening with moisture an hour or so before, but not a full day. Curious, indeed.